Savasana
by JennaLynne
Summary: Because we're sworn to uphold the law, not use it. Protect and serve, not grab whatever you want along the way. Not do whatever you want. We're supposed to stand for something." Mainly Alex/OC, but will have some C/E later.
1. Book 1

Oh what a tangled web we weave,  
When first we practise to deceive!

**Sir Walter Scott**


	2. Chapter I: Alexandra

**Prolouge: Alex - March 2005**

"Conspiracy"

As usual, I was running late. It took thirty-two minutes to drive from my apartment on the Upper West Side to the Superior Court in Chelsea, and that was only if I cut through Central Park. I hurried downstairs in stockings, carrying my heels and the files I'd brought home with me over the weekend. I twisted my long platinum blonde hair into a knot and anchored it at the base of my neck with bobby pins, transforming myself into the person I needed to be before I left my house.

Alexandra Cabot is never caught with her guard down.

* * *

The courthouse was a refuge for me. The tradition of trial, the solace that can be found in the mundane.

With a sigh, I flipped through my notes. My next witness was the first responder. His testimony wouldn't be much help, other than confirming the state the poor girl was in when he arrived at the crime scene. I'd never even met him, my co-chair had prepped him for today, telling him the questions we would ask, and warning him of what crazy theories the defense might spring on him.

"The people call Detective White."

I turned then, to get my first glance of the witness, and I had to remind myself to close my mouth. His eyes, a deep steady green skimmed over me, settled and held on my own. He owned the sort of face, I thought, that seemed to have been chiseled, painstakingly, into angles and planes. Dark hair with a hint of a curl brushed back from his forehead.

It took me a moment to collect myself and remember why I was there at all.

I stepped towards the witness box, and I watched as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Please state your name and occupation for the record…"

"Christopher White, I'm a detective with the NYPD."

I couldn't help it, I smiled back.

"Tell me about the night of December 14th."

He sighed deeply, as if he hated to remember it.

"I got called to battery park, just before I was set to go off shift. I wasn't expecting much because, I mean you know, fights break out all the time down there. I figured it was a bunch of kids doing something stupid, and they'd be long gone by the time I got there. Instead, I found your victim. She was dead."

"What did you do then?"

"I taped off the area, and called for back-up. I requested SVU. From the way she was laying… I just had a feeling. She was just a kid. Barely out of high school. It was messed up, Ms. Cabot. Then I waited. I hated to stand there, but I did it."

"Thank you Detective, the people have no further questions."

The judge turned to the high profile attorney defending the high school student accused of raping and murdering his girlfriend.

"The defense has no questions for this witness."

"You can step down then Sir."

As he walked away, he looked at me, and cracked another smile. I didn't even know him, but already, he was hard not to like.

"Court is adjourned until Monday at nine am."

I was always amazed at how quickly a courtroom emptied, considering the amount of people that managed to pack themselves in. But yet, as usual, by the time I'd packed my things, almost everyone was gone.

Everyone except my new friend.

"Detective, is there something I can help you with?"

"Ms. Cabot, it's Chris."

"Alex" I corrected him automatically.

"Alex then. I was wondering, Alex, if you'd like to join me for a drink tonight."

I barely thought before speaking. "O'Malley's. Eight."

* * *

The bar was crowded, poorly lit, and smelled of sweat.

It was perfect, because he was there already. Lazily smiling as he sipped at the amber liquid in his glass. I brushed a streak of blonde hair out of my face, returned his glance.

"Alexandra."

"Alex." I corrected again, and signaled for my own beer.

He sipped. "No, I've been thinking about it, and I'll call you Alexandra. It's got a ring to it, don't you think?"

I sighed, but found that despite myself, I was smiling slightly. "I don't, but perhaps you could convince me."

He bit his lip slightly, and took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it. "It's beautiful like you."

"That was cheesy."

He blew out the smoke, and I watched as it curled in the air, hanging in a heavy haze above us. "It was. So how about this. I like it."

I took a long drag from my beer before responding. "Let me ask you something."

"Shoot." he said with a shrug.

"Was all this a ruse to get me to sleep with you?"

"Did it work?"

Taking the last swig of my beer, I stood. "Maybe."

And I walked outside, wondering if he'd follow.

* * *

I don't remember much else. All I remember is how I poured myself into his kiss, and wondered how there could possibly be more. The taste of him, fresh and new, yet somehow familiar stirred me. Strong arms around me, his mouth, both pliant and avid.

Yes, this was everything. This was all.

He lifted me with quick careless strength, the sensation of being taken made my head spin. His power combined with mine so I felt just a little drunk when he laid me on his bed, when his body covered mine. The weight, the shape, the feel of him. How could I ever get enough?

I turned my face into his throat, breathing him in, and arched under the stroke of his touch. Slowly, dreamy, drugging, hands and lips, sighs and movement. His shirt and mine peeled away so flesh could meet flesh, so hands could roam over curves, over planes to entice and delight. His skin so smooth over rigidly toned muscle.

A warriors body.

I trembled for him, rose up and over. Lost as he was lost. And when he slipped inside, I said his name. Whispered his name, breathless as I twined around him, as our eyes met.

Lost and found. And it was his name on my lips as we rolled over the peak.


	3. Chapter II: Chris

**Chris – July 2009 – four years later.**

"Emergency"

I'd always been one to live by quotes. There's a certain something to them that allows you to relate the simple words to parts of life that otherwise wouldn't make sense. And there's a great one that applies almost anywhere. From that Tom Hanks movie, the one where he plays a retard. Oh, right, sorry, mentally challenged person. I guess that was the Londoner in me. I could never seem to be as politically correct as everyone thought I should be.

But then again, I'd never really given a shit what other people want me to be.

As Forrest Gump, Hanks said, "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get." Really, for a dumb movie line, said, like it or not, by a retard, it was scarily accurate.

I had a plan for my life. A plan that started with getting the hell out of London, out of the entire country, and as far away from my family as humanly possible. It was hard to make something out of yourself when your mother was a drunk and your father was dealing coke to the neighborhood kids. And I didn't know if running to Manhattan and becoming one of the good guys – or one of the bad guys according to my dear old man – counted as succeeding, but for a while, it was good enough.

Because, being honest, I was a fuck up. I got out of my family, through the academy, and managed to obtain my shield, only to finally succumb to the temptation that had been dogging me all my life. Being a cop had its risks, and like so many others, I'd been shot. Just a graze, nothing life threatening, and yet still, they gave me pills for the pain.

They were an escape.

Because I didn't have to think when I was on them. And anything that can make you forget was an asset. I think that's why I fell in love with Alexandra. She saw me for who I was, and ignored my flaws, even when I was at my worst.

And it didn't hurt that she was drop dead gorgeous either.

She got me, like no one else ever had before. Which was probably the only reason I felt guilty about the things I did. But it was something that started long before I met her, and when I pulled a woman over for drunk driving with her four year old in the back seat, and I remembered just how much I wanted – I needed to forget.

It was raining. The kind of rain that falls like tears dripping from some unknown huge face in the sky. The droplets hammered on the rooftops, making you realize that all you want to do is crawl up tighter under your blankets and never leave your bed. And it was always comforting to feel her beside me, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest.

"Alexandra," I whispered, not wanting to wake her, but knowing it needed to be done.

"Go away."

I laughed, gently pressing my lips to her neck. "You wish I would."

Suddenly, she was awake, her mouth hungrily brushing mine. "More like, I wish we could lie here all day."

"You've to be at the courthouse in an hour."

"And you're being quite a downer this morning. Let me sleep. Five more minutes," she begged like a child.

I kissed her again, quickly and fast. "You're going to be late."

"I'm always late." She sighed, but finally pulled herself from the warmth of our bed and drudged the bathroom.

I lay there in silence for a moment, not really wanting to get up either, but also painfully aware of the fact that a naked woman was all alone in my shower. So I too, rolled over, and yanked myself from the comfort of the night. The light was on in the bathroom, and the shower was running, but I paused before going in. I reached under the bed, feeling around until I found the bottle I'd hidden there. It was viccodin this week. Which didn't work as well as the oxycodone did.

But I'd learnt to settle for what I could get now.

The pill dry swallowed easily, and I breathed for a moment, waiting to feel something.

Wanting to feel anything.


	4. Chapter III: Elliot

**Elliot:**

"Brighter"

The rain was disconcerting. But then again, it always was. Maybe it had something to do with the colours - or lack there of – or perhaps it was simply the dreary wet it brought about. Whatever caused it, I hated it, that feeling of a broken spirit, of a day gone wrong.

And it didn't help when the rat squad showed up either.

Don't get me wrong, I hated dirty cops as much as the next person. It was an insult to the badge, to serving, protecting, and everything we stood for. At the same time, talking to IAB, it was like turning over your brother. When it was the right thing to do, most would do it.

You still didn't have to like it.

So when David Webster's ugly mug came into my line of sight, I made sure my own face was set in a scowl.

"Detective Stabler."

"Lieutenant," I spat coldly. "What can I do for you?"

"Anything to get me in and out, eh? Don't wanna be seen associating with me, do you Elliot?"

"You're damn right I don't. I have better things to do than waste my time smelling rat."

"That's not very nice."

"I'm not really a nice guy. But you know that already, don't you Webster? So, quit wasting my time, and tell me what you want."

"Alex Cabot. Where is she?"

I felt the puzzled look cross my face but did nothing to stop it.

"I haven't got the slightest idea. Probably at the courthouse, or her office, you know, where she belongs. I'm not her keeper. Or her boyfriend. You might ask him."

"How much do you know about Detective White?"

"Who?" I questioned, and then it dawned on me. "Oh. Chris. Not much."

"He's been dating your ADA for four years and change, and you don't know anything about him?"

"We've gone out for drinks a few times, but besides that, I hardly see him. He works out of the 2-7. Alex doesn't parade her personal life before us. And we're mostly grateful for it."

"You think of Ms. Cabot like a sister, no?"

"I do yes. And I don't see how any of this is your business."

"If someone were my sister, I'd want to protect her."

"Alex can take care of herself. She doesn't need a babysitter. All I can tell you about Chris is he drinks dark beer, and smokes Marlboro Menthol Lights. Which according to an old Marine Corps buddy of mine are white chick cigarettes. Cabot isn't a stupid woman. If White is dirty, she knows. And she also wouldn't cover for him."

"I don't like your tone detective." His emphasis on my rank.

"I don't have time for this lieutenant. If you don't mind, I should be finding a rapist."

Nonchalantly, Webster waved a hand, as if dismissing me from my own desk. I didn't fight the urge to roll my eyes at his back.

By the time he'd gone, I'd lost the train of thought I'd been carrying before he showed up. It was time for coffee, I decided, and time to regroup.

"It stinks in here."

I laughed, and turned to face my partner.

"Webster just left, Olivia. You've got a good nose." I joked, smiling softly.

"What the hell did he want?"

I shrugged. "Something about that cop Alex is dating."

"He's dirty?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"I'd like to think she'd realise something like that."

"So would I Liv… So would I."

Her sigh was soft, and not meant for me to catch, but I did anyway. "You think there's a chance he's dirty. That she's missed it."

"I've spent more time with him than you have. Sometimes, I get this vibe… like… something's off. Almost like he's high or something. It hurts me to say it, because I know it will hurt Alex, but I can't say it's not possible."

"What… what do you think we should do then?"

She pursed her lips, ran a finger through her choppy brown hair and closed her eyes. "I think, honestly, we need to stay out of it. Just distance ourselves from the whole situation."

"How will that help?"

"Think about it El. If he is dirty, and if anyone's in a position to figure it out, it would be us. By doing that, we'd break Alex's heart. We're better off doing nothing."

"I… you're right. You're always right."

"Well, of course. That's why we solve so many cases. You didn't think it had to do with your skills… did you?"

"I may have deluded myself into thinking that… just for a moment. Or at least our combined efforts."

"See how wrong one person can be?"

Laughter rang out from both of us, a low guttural sound; her eyes sparkled with the noise.

"I'd love to know where this sarcastic streak came from."

"I learnt it from the best."

"I taught you nothing, Liv."

She laughed again, and I realized how truly stunning she was.

"So cocky, El." She wagged her finger at me, and I had to resist the urge to catch it and put my teeth on it, just to play with her. "Let's go. We have work to do, and this coffee is gross, so we need to stop somewhere and get something decent."

"I was thinking the same thing."

"One of many reasons we work so well together."

Yes, I agreed privately. One of oh so many.

"Elliot, take a coat. It's raining."

And my rainy day got better.


	5. Chapter IV: Alexandra

**Alex: **

"All we know is falling"

The paperwork on my desk mounted higher, and my desire to complete it waned more quickly with every passing second. The knock that came to the door was a welcomed distraction.

"Come in," I called out, without bothering to see who was there.

"Homicide numbers, Al."

The term of endearment, the nickname Al, brought a weak smile to my weary face, for I didn't need to look up to know who was there. But one person was permitted to call me "Al" and I wasn't exactly sure why even he was allowed to get away with it.

Jim Steele looked at me, one corner of his mouth twisted up in a poor imitation of a grin, his sandy hair brushed away from his face, highlighting his grey eyes, eyes that stared right through me, ever a mystery, and ever an enigma.

"Charges or defendants?" I asked him softly, knowing the former would make our numbers that much stronger, and as bureau chief, that was my job, but afraid from the sheer size of the file, that he'd given me the latter.

"Defendants." Steele confirmed, and I scowled. At this, his face went soft. "I'm sorry Al, that's just how it stands."

"If I take these numbers to McCoy, he'll skin my ass."

"I'm not going to embellish the charges to impress the bosses on the 8th floor."

"You are such a bureaucrat."

"Is that why we broke up?" he asked slyly, a hint of a rare smile playing in his eyes.

"We never dated." I reminded him adamantly.

"Oh, right, I'm sorry, we were just sleeping together." He spat, sarcastically.

"Something like that, yeah." I agreed finally.

"It was fun though, right?"

"Sure was." I gave in, and turned back to my work.

"Then why'd I get dumped?"

"Jim…"

"I'm serious!"

"I don't want to talk about this," I sighed.

"I'm totally over it, I promise." He whispered as he put on his best boy scout face, and kicked the door to my office shut, making it clear he had no intention of leaving without an answer.

"I'm sure you are."

"So, then lets talk about it, because we never did. Why'd I get the axe?"

"Because, I met Chris, and he seemed like the perfect guy."

"What do you mean, seemed like?" I rolled my eyes at his snide remark, but he pushed the issue further still. "Are you in love with him?"

"He's a wonderful man."

"That's not what I asked."

"Of course I'm in love with him."

"Am I sensing problems?" he quipped.

_You sense too much, Jim_. I thought to myself. _Too much for your own damn good._

"The problem," I snapped, "is that I have a meeting" I glanced down at my watch. "In five minutes."

His smoky eyes connected with my icy blue ones, and Steele opened his mouth to say more, but apparently thought better of it, because he closed it again, left the office abruptly, taking care to slam the door behind himself.

I sighed loudly, perhaps rather childishly, and rose from my desk to yank the door open again. I'd barely returned to my seat when Lieutenant David Webster had seemingly materialized from nowhere and stood in my office.

"Ms. Cabot." He said efficiently with and nod of his head. I stood, extended my hand politely, but coolly, and met his.

"What can I do for you?" I asked gently, and resumed my seat, gesturing to the one across from my desk as I did.

He stared at me for a moment, but I was too familiar with interrogation techniques - having watched Elliot and Olivia on countless occasions – not to see it for what it really was - a ruse to see if I had been thinking through a lie, and trying to collect parts of a story. But from the moment he'd called me and asked for a meeting, I had no idea what he'd wanted, it had puzzled me all morning.

Finally, when he spoke, it was with regret. "I need to ask you a few questions about your boyfriend."

I thought of Jim, storming out of the very same spot where Webster sat, just moments prior, and a completely perplexed expression crossed my face.

"Chris? But… why?"

"Come now, Ms. Cabot, you know I can't answer that."

I bit down on my lip, for nothing good ever came of talking with Internal Affairs, but at the same time, I had serious trouble imagining Chris had done anything wrong. I'd been a lawyer long enough; I was trained to catch things other people missed, I'd like to think I'd catch them in my own lover.

"What… what do you want to know?"

"Was Detective White … Chris, was he home last night?"

"He was there when I got home, yes."

"Around what time was that?"

"A little after nine, I'd guess. He was home all night after that."

"How can you be so sure he was there all night? Would you know if he left while you were sleeping?"

I felt the blush rise hot in the back of my neck. "We… we didn't sleep until around five am, and he woke me at seven."

Webster's eyebrows shot up, and I brushed a stand of hair away from my face, meeting his eyes. If I could deal with sex offenders and murderers, I could deal with a tattle-tale cop.

"Is that unusual?"

"Not really." I said calmly, smirking.

"Have you ever noticed your boyfriend depressed, or upset?"

Bewildered, I answered quickly. "Well, of course. When you deal with nothing but murderers all day long, what else can you expect? It's natural, some depression, with the job. I'd be more worried if he was never upset."

"Have you ever found drugs in your home, Ms. Cabot?"

"Never!" I cried, outraged at the very thought.

Webster nodded vehemently. "We'd like your consent to search your apartment."

Adamantly, I jutted my chin forward. "You won't have it. Not without a warrant."

"You realize that makes you look rather uncooperative."

"I don't care." I said quietly. "You won't invade my privacy, or Chris'. Not without good cause."

David stood, and again extended his hand graciously, but when I didn't meet it, he dropped it to his side. "It would appear we're at a cross purpose then, wouldn't it?"

"So it would seem. Good day, Lieutenant."

I watched in stony silence as he look leave of my office, and thanked God he had the good sense to pull the door closed behind himself, for I hadn't the mental strength to walk over and close it myself. I only collapsed in soft tears.

***

The day was endless, and my heart wasn't in any of the things I've come to do so well. I wanted – no, I mentally corrected, - I needed, to go home and prove to myself that none of Webster's accusations were true. I hated myself for feeling that I needed to even check, but once an idea like that has been put in your head, it seems you cannot rest until it has been proven false.

So it was with a shaking hand that I let myself into my own home that night, and only breathed a small sigh of relief when I found it empty, and untouched, exactly as I'd left it that morning when I'd left.

I searched meticulously, upending furniture, shaking out carpets until my fears could be either confirmed or dispelled. And you know, they say when you search for something, it's always in the last place you'll look. Which, when you think about it, is a rather stupid saying, as why would you continue looking once you've found something? Of course it's going to be in the last place you'd check. The saying should really go, "it'll be in the last place you'd think of."

So it stunned me to reach under my bed, and pull back the tiny prescription bottle of viccodin. A bottle that did not have Chris' name on it, but the name of a suspect he'd arrested in a drug dealing case just a week prior. A case where evidence, drug evidence, had gone missing.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, on the floor, turning the little bottle over and over in my palms. The pills rolled from one side to the other, shaking softly like the sound a baby's rattle makes. It was the click of the lock, the near silent turn of the door knob that brought me to my feet, gave me the strength to face what needed to be faced, and to say what needed to be said.

"Alexandra?!" I heard him cry out, and realized, with a start, that the entire apartment must've looked like a bomb had hit it.

"I'm in here." I whispered, knowing he'd hear me anyway.

Gun drawn, Chris barreled his way into our bedroom, searching for signs of an intruder.

"There's no one here." I said easily.

"How did… what happened out there?"

"I had a visitor today at my office. A friend of yours. I destroyed the place looking for something he wanted very badly."

Chris swallowed, and tried his best to look confused.

I said nothing, only handed him the bottle.

"Where… where did you get this?"

"You already know the answer to that. It's my turn to ask questions now."

He nodded slowly, and I continued, to angry to stop.

"I only want to know… why?"

I was met with the same stone silence I'd given Lieutenant Webster. All I could do was sigh.


	6. Chapter V: Chris

_Author's Note/ Disclaimer: this chapter is mildly graphic, and contains a violent rape scene. If this bothers or offends you - please don't read it. The chapter after this one will make everything clear enough, should you decide to skip it._

* * *

**Chris: **

"Never let this go"

The room spun around me, but I focused on her face. My Alexandra, and the tiny bottle of pills she held out for me to take.

"I want to know why, Chris." She repeated.

"What have you told IAB?" I finally managed.

"Nothing. There was nothing to tell, because I didn't know anything until they brought it to my attention. Were these drugs evidence?"

"That depends." I whispered, taking a step closer to her.

"On what?!" she roared. "Either they are, or they aren't! And either way, it's not your name on the bottle…"

"What are you going to do about it?"

"The right thing. I'm going to turn them over. If you… if you had a problem, you could have come to me… anytime. Or Olivia. I'm sure even Elliot would've helped you. But now you've done something unforgivable Chris. I can't… it would go against everything I have in me as a lawyer to not turn you in."

"Don't you love me, Alexandra?"

I watched as her breath caught in her throat, and she choked out a response.

"It's irrelevant."

I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, and I felt as she struggled, desperately trying to wrench herself free from my grip. I had only wanted a moment, I only wanted her to listen.

"Let me go you fool!"

"I'll have no more of this crap!" I spat angrily. "You'll not be turning anything over!"

"Enough, Chris! You're high out of your mind!"

My mind couldn't listen to it anymore, and in an attempt to silence her, I lowered my mouth to hers, crashing our lips together. She beat her hands against my chest, never relenting, refusing to return the embrace.

"No! I don't want any part of this!" she cried helplessly.

I watched my hand reel back, as if in slow motion, and connect with her face. The sound of the slap reverberated throughout the room, and it knocked loose the tears that began to trail down her cheeks.

"Stop." She whispered. "Please, stop."

Her words had barely hit my thoughts before I was ignoring them, and throwing her down on our bed, tearing the clothes from her body. I watched her as she froze. Watched as she struggled internally for the next breath. Her body went limp with fear like a lifeless, worn, childhood toy. Yet a defiant sense of strength and a will to live and survive kicked in and begin to flow through her. She wriggled against me, her elbows occasionally jabbed me in the ribs which only angered me further. With one arm around her neck occasionally I tightened my grip, while I still had her pinned against my chest. I don't speak. Not one single word. I climbed on top of her, the weight of my body pressed heavily against hers, my mouth just above her ear.

She cried endlessly as I forced myself inside her, begging and pleading with me to stop. The drugs ruled my mind, I knew nothing else.

"Don't you love me, Alexandra?" I repeated, before kissing her again.

And she whimpered as I emptied myself inside her.

The simple sound of it, the helpless act of giving up, made me realize the horror of what I'd done. I looked at her face, it was cut where my watch had grazed her, and I could see on her arms, legs, chest where the bruises would soon form.

"I… I… oh my god." Tears welled in my eyes, bile rose in my throat. I found I was singularly thankful that the bathroom was so close by, for I'd barely made it there in time before falling to my knees and retching violently.

She stood behind me the whole time, arms folded across her chest, icy blue eyes bone dry.

"I'll turn myself over, Alexandra. You need not worry."

She swallowed hard, and passed me my toothbrush before speaking.

"No, no don't do that."

I looked at her hand, where she still cradled the little bottle of pills. With a flick of her wrist, she dumped them down the toilet. With a single flush, they'd vanished.

"No more of this." She muttered softly. "If you do it again, I won't wait Chris. I'll go straight to the police."

"You should go now, for what I've done to you."

"I should." She agreed quietly. "And I can't say exactly why I won't. Maybe I do love you. I don't really know anything right now, except that you're sorry. It's enough. It has to be."

"You mean… you're not leaving?"

"Haven't I just said I'm not?" she said sharply. "I'm going to shower, and you're going to sleep. Come tomorrow, we'll never speak of, never think of this again."

I looked at her face again, where her blonde hair had fallen over her eyes, it had become matted with the blood from the cut. I knew this would be something neither of us would forget, come morning.

But I'd gotten what I wanted, and it was all over for now. So I only nodded agreement with her orders, and dragged myself off to bed, willing myself to forget.

* * *

_Don't forget to review. The lack of reviews is sad ..._


	7. Chapter VI: Elliot

**Elliot: **

"Whoa"

The morning dawned; a mist filled pearly grey, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I just couldn't shake. Any visit from the rat squad was usually enough to have even the most seasoned cops quaking in their boots. But, for once, I didn't believe it was the unexpected presence of Webster that had my breakfast threatening to come back up. It was more the things he'd said. Beyond that, who he'd been looking for.

Alex.

Chris.

And not for anything, but IAB didn't hold the worlds best reputation for being discrete, nor have they ever shown an inclination to care about the innocent they destroy during their often mindless witch hunts. If White _was_ dirty, then I couldn't have cared less what became of him, but I'd be goddamned if Alex Cabot was dragged down with him.

"El, you've gone all blank. Haven't I warned you about thinking too hard?"

The sound of my partner's voice, her light sarcasm had me snapping back to reality.

"Sorry, phased out. You need something?"

"Dispatch, Elliot. Body in a building on Pearl Street." Even as Olivia spoke, she was already moving to stand, sliding her leather jacket onto her shoulders.

"I'm driving," I muttered "And call Cabot while we're en-route, give her a heads up."

She nodded, saying nothing more.

* * *

The building sat squat and sad, a grey slab generously coated with the indignity of graffiti. Windows gaped – mouths with the jagged edges of broken glass like bad teeth. A few were boarded, and more than a few of the boards tipped drunkenly. The bolt and chain on the front door had amused someone enough to take the time to hack it to pieces.

Had it been in perfect repair, I thought, it would still have been a joke.

A couple of uniforms stood on the shallow concrete platform in front of the entrance chatting animatedly. They broke it off when they caught sight of Olivia and myself.

"SVU" I said sharply, flashing my badge and hooking it onto my belt.

"The panty police?" the shorter of the two uniforms snorted. "Ain't no rape here."

"Dispatch calls, we answer." Liv interrupted briskly, but softly, her eyes twinkling. "Have you verified ID on the victim?" she continued.

The taller nodded. "Subject is identified as Stacey Biondi, of 544 central park west. She's-"

"Seventeen years old." I cut in, and heard Olivia's silent curse behind me. "Well, at least there's your answer as to why we're here. She was an eye wit in our latest case."

"Without her, we have no case." Alex said softly from behind us.

I turned slowly at the sound of her voice, thankful she had shown up, ready to fill her in, but froze when I caught sight of her face.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Olivia and I demanded in unison.

"Car accident." She mumbled.

"Alex, it looks like someone beat the hell out of you…" I joked, sending her a weak smile.

She swallowed hard, inhaled deeply. "Haven't we got a job to do?"

So, in silence, we made our way inside.

It stank, old piss, old vomit, a decades worth of dust and grime. Where the feeble sunlight had managed to fight its way into the building, it caused shadows to dance over the piles of rags, papers and assorted debris that junkies, in their day, had left behind.

As far as places to die went, I couldn't imagine a worse location.

Alex stayed in the background as we examined the scene, arms crossed over her chest, mouth set in a long thin line.

"Was she raped?" I asked the ME who was still bent over the body.

"It's not playing that way."

Alex exhaled a long endless sigh of relief.

"Thank god for small favors." She whispered. "Call me if you need anything."

We stared after her as she jammed her hands into her coat pockets and walked away.

"Something isn't right." Olivia observed aloud, privately, I agreed, though I didn't have the slightest idea what we could do about it. Cabot could certainly take care of herself. And if, for some reason, she had gotten into trouble, she'd come to us.

I hoped.

Pushing the thought from my mind, I turned my attention back to the task at hand. It was all I could do to distract myself.


	8. Book 2

"**Nothing can come of nothing. Speak again." **

**-Shakespeare **


	9. Chapter I: Al

**Alex: **

"We are broken"

My office felt cramped, and three sizes smaller than usual. A headache throbbed behind my temples, the ragged edges of it something that even six Advil hadn't been able to push away.

"Hey, Al … you got a minute?"

I pulled my face from where I'd buried it in my hands, met his eyes.

"Sure, Jim. What's up?"

I watched as his face fell and he wrinkled his nose.

"You look like you've been hit by a truck."

"It was a sedan, actually." I joked with a weak smile. "You needed something?"

"Yeah…Jessica Rossi wants to plead out her assault case."

"It's an eyewitness thing?"

Steele nodded. "NYU student robbed at knife point. Two elderly Russian ladies with coke bottle glasses saw it happen. They described our suspect as 'a tall chocolate man'."

"Let me guess. The student was drunk."

"And stoned." He added.

"Sounds like a plea to me." I told him with a nod, and turned back to the memo I had been trying to force myself to focus on.

"That's what I assumed, just wanted to clear it." He turned to leave, and then apparently changed his mind, spun to face me again. "I've been meaning to ask you… how is that rape trial of yours going?"

"Not well." I admitted solemnly. "They found my eyewit this morning. Dead."

"Ah. Shit."

"My sentiments exactly. I've got nothing without her, and the defense knows it. To be honest, I think I'll be lucky if I can plead it down to misdemeanor sexual assault. Two girls are dead, and the bastard responsible is going to walk."

"It's really gotten to you, this one…"

I made a small noise of assent. "I'm just not cut out to work with special victims anymore. I've gone all soft." I shot him another weak smile.

"You could always hand it off…"

"No. No, I won't do that. I can't do that."

"Casey Novak is off suspension, she's more than capable, and she has the experience…"

"Jim, I'm not worried about capabilities. Plenty of lawyers in this office are 'capable'. I need to see it through."

"Alright Al." he said softly, a hint of resignation playing in his voice as he took a seat. "Talk it out then."

"It's all circling back to drugs. Both my dead girls, pushing them in their high school … the first victim's father manufacturing them … and the defendant… a junkie crazed for a fix."

"Your second victim died the same way as the first?"

"Mostly. There was no indication of rape at the scene though…" I trailed off, lost in the thought.

"Were either of the girls using?"

I shook my head. "Tox screen was clean on the 1st girl … I haven't even had a chance to check the preliminary report on my second girl. But my impression was no. I talked to her, I prepped her for trial. Now I think about it though, something was off. Not drugs… she wasn't jonesing. But she … wasn't right."

While Steele took a moment to process what I'd told him, I fished out the preliminary ME's report, and gave it a cursory glance.

"Goddamn it."

"Was she using?" he asked softly. "You were off?"

"I… no. There's evidence of long term sexual abuse. And my money goes on her father. Drugs and incest. It just keeps getting better." Exasperated, I let my head fall onto my desk, the headache in a full fledged rage. "I need to be objective, and I can't be. I've lost the edge."

"Pass it off. Give it to someone who _can_ be objective."

"With all due respect Jim, kiss my ass."

"With all due respect?" he spat, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, is there a problem here?"

"I don't appreciate being told off because I offered input."

"It's my bureau Jim. I'll yell at whomever I want."

I stood up, and began to shove files into my briefcase, in a sudden rush to be anywhere else. He matched me slowly.

"You know what? I know you and Chris are having problems right now-"

I cut him off, jabbing my finger into his chest. "This has nothing to do with that! Do you understand?"

He turned to leave, and on impulse, I reached out, grabbed his wrist. "Don't you walk away from me!"

He stared at me for a moment, stormy grey eyes locked with my ice blue ones, his expression impossible to read.

And then I was bent over the desk, his mouth crushed hard on mine. I didn't fight. The wind had been knocked out of me by the suddenness of it, and the rage under it, and the shock of need that slammed into me like a fist.

It was quick, seconds only, before my mouth was free.

"Stop it." I demanded, and hated that my voice was only a shaky whisper.

"Whatever you think" he began struggling for his own composure. "There are times when you need someone. Right now, it's me."

"I don't know what your problem is."

"It seems to be you. Do you know how you looked?" he demanded to know, using his foot to slam her office door closed. "Sitting behind that desk, your face all bruised up, eyes closed with shadows under them?"

"I didn't think …"

"You never do." He muttered so softly I wasn't sure I was meant to hear it. "No car accident put those marks on your face. And until you admit it, the objectivity will stay away."

Without another word, he'd yanked open the door, and let it slam loudly behind him. I blew out a breath, trying to avoid the answer I already knew. With another sigh, I picked up the phone and dialed Casey Novak.


	10. Chapter II: Casey

**Casey:**

"Born for This"

I felt like a petulant child who had been summoned to the principal's office. I couldn't deny the fact that since I'd returned from my suspension, my nerves had been somewhat shot. In the courtroom, I was still as tough as ever, and hadn't lost a case. But I'd been wearing the rules like one wears a pair of thick leather gloves. I wasn't willing to risk my career and everything I love a second time around. Every move I'd made since returning had been careful and calculated.

So, why the bureau chief wanted a meeting with me, I really couldn't say. But knowing I hadn't done anything wrong didn't make it any easier, nor did it make me any less nervous.

Her door was open when I arrived, and I gave it the polite two tap knock before walking in. She was looking up, clearly ready and waiting for me.

"Casey, thanks for coming down."

I nodded, forced a small smile. "Yeah, well, when the boss calls, you sorta come running."

Alex smiled and brushed a small strand of loose hair away from her eyes. "I need a favor." She began simply, I nodded again, letting her know I was willing to listen. "I need you to take a case from me. An SVU case."

I swallowed the hard lump that had formed in my throat, blew out a breath.

"Sure." I responded in what I hoped was a nonchalant tone. "Of course. No problem."

I'd been longing for that, hoping for a chance to get back into my old slot, back with the squad I'd befriended and become comfortable with. I couldn't understand why I'd suddenly become more nervous than I was before I'd walked into the office.

Alex passed me a stack of files thicker than her waist.

"I really appreciate this." She muttered softly.

I bit down on my lip. "Is it too forward of me to ask why?"

Even behind the bruises, I watched the color rise hotly in her cheeks. "No. No, it's not, and I suppose you deserve to know… but I can't tell you."

Her words exuded pain; her eyes sparkled, brimming with unshed tears.

"It's alright, Alex." I whispered, unable to find the right words, and desperate for an escape. "I understand."

"You do." She murmured, softly. "Even if you don't quite realize it yet."

And with that sentiment, I understood myself to be dismissed.

* * *

It was a cop bar. Clean and well lit, with scarred wooden tables and cheap beer. And too many voices – all laughing and trying to talk over each other. Elliot and Olivia were easy for me to spot, even from across the crowded room. Their routines hadn't changed in the months I'd been gone. Same table, same alcohol. Her head was thrown back mid-laugh, and he was scowling into his drink.

It's good to learn that some things don't change.

"El?" I called out tentatively, not wanting to intrude on what appeared to be a private moment, a single breath of normality for detectives who so rarely got a break.

"Casey!" they called back in unison, beckoning me over, smiling brightly.

"Didn't expect to see you in our neck of the woods anytime soon…" Olivia commented gently.

"Well, Alex passed me her case … so… here I am." I towed the line carefully, unsure how much to tell them.

Silence lapsed back over us, awkward and annoying as it never had been in the past.

"I need another drink." Olivia announced, glancing down at her empty glass. "Want anything, Case?"

"Yeah, a beer would be great. Whatever you're drinking."

She nodded and vanished into the crowd.

"So, I take this to mean you've seen Cabot recently."

"This morning." I confirmed. "She looked a little worse for the wear." I admitted.

"She claimed she was in a car accident."

"But you don't buy it." I interrupted.

He paused, took a swig of his beer before continuing. "I think I did, at first. I mean, why the hell would she lie? But it didn't sit right. And now she's passed the case off. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to see you again. Didn't think I'd have this chance."

He smiled then, the warmth of it spread into my bones.

"It's nice to see you again too." I muttered weakly hoping he didn't notice the blush rising at the back of my neck.

"One Guinness." Olivia said brightly, returning with our drinks.

"Gross. If I'd known you were drinking that crap I'd have gotten my own damn beer."

"Aren't you Irish Case?" Elliot asked me with a laugh. "Isn't it like, sacrilegious for you to hate Guinness?"

"Ha. Ha. You're just a laugh riot tonight, aren't you?"

With another wide grin, he drained the remaining amber liquid from his glass and stood to leave.

"I'm going to call it an early night. I'm on shift at eight am tomorrow."

"Hang on, I'll walk out with you." Olivia said quickly, and like a pro, emptied her glass. I scowled into the beer I didn't want, and followed them both outside.

By the time I joined them, Olivia had already climbed into a cab and was jetting downtown.

"Heading home then Casey?"

I nodded, and stepped towards the curb to hail my own taxi.

"Split a cab with me, since we're both going all the way to queens anyway…?"

"Sure." I responded easily, but I was slightly amazed at how simply things had fallen back into their old routine.

Elliot rattled off my address, and predictably, the cabbie groaned at the thought of a trek to queens. I smirked, and from the corner of my eye I could see my expression mirrored on the handsome detectives face.

Yes, I thought. It was good to be back with people who understood me. My only regret was that it seemed to happen under violent circumstances. Something was very wrong with Alex Cabot. And I'm sure my mind would've lingered on that thought, but when my knees brushed Elliot's, I felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, and all thoughts seemed to vanish from my mind.

* * *

My neighborhood was deserted, as it always is at close to two am. I pushed a stack of bills into Elliot's hand and moved to open the car door.

"It was good to see you again, Case."

"Yeah." I agreed with a small smile. "Real good."

And suddenly, his lips were on mine, melting us together. The kiss was long, and it was hard, and not particularly playful. I wasn't sure what had come over either of us in that moment. We'd never had anything more than a professional working relationship. Maybe some mild flirtation. And I realized that I didn't care.

"Thanks for seeing me home, El."

He ran his hand gently down my cheek. "Sure thing Case. See ya tomorrow."

I nodded and climbed out of the car, my mind reeling with things I'd never expected.

It was good to be home.


	11. Chapter III: Jim

**Jim:**

"For a pessimist, I'm pretty optimistic"

When the storm passed, it dragged in the heat. Temperatures pushed into the triple digits, even once the sun had set for the night. And the summer breeze that meandered its way through my office window was too sticky to be of any comfort. The warmth fogged my brain, and while I still had a pile of memos and motions to wade through, I couldn't force myself to think any longer. So I stuffed what I could into my briefcase, and prepared to swing home. A brief hope of picking up some Chinese for dinner was crossing my mind, when I caught sight of the light still burning in Cabot's office.

She lay facedown on her desk, and for a brief millisecond, my breath caught in my throat; just until she shifted in her sleep.

Not hurt, I thought as the relief poured through me. Simply completely exhausted. I glanced at my watch and realized it was already after one am.

"Al…" I murmured softly.

She stirred slowly, glancing around the room trying to get her bearings.

"Damn. Just … just dropped out for a minute. Thanks for waking me."

"It's late Al, go home."

She yawned greatly. "I've got another hour in me."

"You don't, no. You've gone pale, which was always a sign you've hit the wall."

"It's not your place to tell me when to stop working. Watch it, Jim."

I took a step closer to her, the heat and anger fired in my eyes. "No, Alex. Don't tell me to 'watch it' or remind me that you're my boss and that I've overstepped my bounds. You sit there, passed out; looking like the weight of the world has fallen onto your shoulders. I'm supposed to come in here, wake you up, and then watch you put yourself through the ringer again? No, I think not."

"So leave." She responded with a shrug. "Nobody asked you to play daddy and check up on me."

"Christ, Al. You are so goddamn stupid." I whispered, yanked her out of her chair and crashed our mouths together. I eased down, and found with my mouth, the spot just under her jaw line I'd remembered I liked best. My fingers skimmed over her breasts, her sides, and around her back to dance along her spine.

The thrill rushed through both of us. And she knew what I was trying to do – trying to wash away the shadows of her day. Help her forget.

"Cut that out." She muttered, but angled her head so my lips could trail up. "Actually maybe... just a minute more."

I smiled. "That's pushing even my speed and agility. But, we'll start with a minute." I caught her earlobe between my teeth. "And see how it goes."

I could tell her brain was starting to fog up, her body starting to rev.

"God, I'd forgotten how good you are at this." Her breath caught. And I smirked at her puzzlement at how quickly I'd gotten her shirt off. "This … we can't do this on my desk…"

"Bet we could…" I challenged with a laugh as my mouth found hers again, sank in.

"Your minute has to be up…" she whimpered, but couldn't seem to resist nibbling at my throat.

I feigned a glance at my watch, and nodded my head. "Hmm. So it is. Sleep well then Al." I took two steps toward the door before she managed to catch up, and spin me around.

"Don't you dare."

I grinned. "Well then, since it seems that we're going over our minute, let's see if we can make time stop."

She hooked her arms and legs around me, used the momentum to push us back towards her desk, and roll on top of me. Papers scattered everywhere, flying towards the ground, and we couldn't have cared less.

"Fast." She warned breathlessly.

"I can live with that."

She tore open my shirt, ran her hands in one hard sweep over my chest, then lowered to scrape her teeth over flesh.

I flipped her, dragged at her skirt and she dragged at my trousers. My heart hammered under her restless mouth, her muscles tensed under my impatient hands.

We tugged, pulled, yanked and ripped so that she was naked and laughing when she rolled again to straddle me. Laughter became a purr of pleasure, as she took me inside her.

She clenched around me, drove me mad with need. Her face was so alive, alive with purpose and pleasure, as I hadn't seen it in ages.

The air thickened, my vision dimmed, my voice was raw. "Go over, let go."

She cried out as we plunged together, as I dived with her.

***

I drew her down, drew her in, as we drifted back.

"Sex is funny." She murmured.

"I'm still laughing."

"No, I mean it's strange. How sometimes, afterwards you feel like you could sleep for days, and other times, you want to run a marathon."

"As it seems your opting for the latter, I'll be pleased for the moment. It'll make life my life much easier."

"Why's that?"

"Well, I really didn't want to carry you all the way home."

She shook her head. "No. Revved. Gotta work."

"You just don't want to go home. There's a difference."

"I hardly think…"

"It's no matter anyway, because if you think I'd let you crawl back into bed with White, you're insane. The only home you're going to tonight is mine."

"It's not that simple Jim. Chris … he… I can't do this. If it'll shut you up, I'll sleep. But I'm doing it here."

I shrugged. "Alright. Then I suppose I'm sleeping here too."

"You're a pain in the ass. You know that, right?"

"It's my ultimate mission in life. Remind me to tell you about it, after we've gotten some sleep."

Alex sighed audibly. "And you win again. Let's just go to your apartment."

I hooked an arm around her waist, and pressed my lips to her forehead. "I always win Al. Sooner or later. But I think we'll have to call this one a draw. At least for the moment. We get clean clothes and a hot shower out of the deal. And maybe morning sex."

"Can't go wrong with that one, now can we?" she whispered, as she began to redress, her eyes twinkling with some of the light they'd been missing.

"Don't think we can." I muttered and followed her lead, pulling what was left of my clothing back onto my body. "I'll grab a cab." I started towards the door.

"Jim?"

I turned back, our eyes met. "Yeah."

"Thanks. Just… thanks."

I said nothing more, only turned away, a smile etched onto my face.


	12. Chapter IV: Al

**Alex: **

"Misery Business"

By seven thirty I was already draining my second cup of coffee. The combination of caffeine, a shower, and oversized sweats, had me feeling almost human again. The ancient clothes that Jim had unearthed from somewhere where cool and comfortable against the bruises that still dotted and marred my skin.

"Was the sex always that good?" he asked me with a smirk and a pithy laugh.

"We always did that part well, yes." I agreed.

"If that's true, I can't imagine why you cut me loose, or that I ever let you go."

"Ah, but you forget, my thickheaded friend, we have a tendency to bicker like children."

"Only because you're so damn stubborn. If you'd let me take care of you once in a while, we wouldn't fight so much."

"I don't like being handled."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't I know it." He drew me up to him, pressed our lips together. "Yet, I still feel the need to try. Take the day off, Al. Please."

"You know I can't do that. Just as you know I'll need to go home after work and deal with this."

"If you must, at least let me-"

I cut him off. "No, Jim. I need to do this alone."

"I won't let him hurt you."

I forced a smile. "It's sweet of you to care, to want to protect me, really it is. But I've been living with Chris for close to four years now. I know him, and I know he won't hurt me again."

"You know as well as I that people don't change. If he does it once, he's capable of doing it again, and that thought alone has kept you sleepless." He exhaled audibly. "I shouldn't be arguing with you about taking the day off, I should be trying to convince you to press charges." I started to shake my head, but he held up a hand, and continued to talk. "But I know that would just be a waste of my time, so I won't bother. All I'm asking is that you sleep some, here, where I know you'll be safe. Because you look like crap."

"Thanks, Jim. That was just what I needed to hear." I set down the empty coffee cup and raked my fingers through still wet hair. "I'm going home. It needs to be done. End of discussion."

His eyes were smoke, completely unreadable. "If you think, even for a moment, that I'm going to let you leave my bed and run to his … _again_… you've another thing coming."

"Stop me then!" I roared back, my temper flaring. "Go on Jim!" I gave him a shove. "Be like him. Beat me, rape me, force me to fucking stay!"

Admitting it aloud was like a sucker punch to the gut. It knocked the wind out of me completely, and I felt it as my legs gave out from underneath my body. He barely moved fast enough to catch me, and lower me slowly to the ground.

And the tears came in a flood, like a burst dam, running hot and unstoppable down my face.

"There it is." He whispered softly. "The truth under it all." If I hadn't been so preoccupied by my own tears, I'd have noticed the blatant pain etched on his face.

We sat on the ground for what seemed like an eternity before I finally had my breath back. "I hate this." I choked out.

"Are you ashamed of this?"

Shame? I wasn't sure. Was it shame I felt, or anger, or some nasty brew of both?

"I want to be pissed. Royally pissed at him. But the only person I feel like I can be mad at is myself. And mostly it's because I dedicated my life to eradicating the world of people like him. I can't be mad at him, because it's almost like I've built this wall around him. An illusion I created for myself after I left witness protection. Trying desperately to get back what I lost. Stability... and… and I need to shut up."

Gently he trailed a finger down my face.

"Now, let me tell you something Al. I never liked you. I didn't even know you, but I didn't like you. You were younger than me, well liked, and goddamn it, you were … you are smarter than me. I resented everything you were, and everything you had. I think it was in the moment when I heard you'd been killed, gone down fighting for what you believed in, that it clicked for me. You weren't who I thought you were. You were a crusader. Someone who honestly believed in what you fought for. Getting justice for victims wasn't just a job to you, it was everything. And the resentment became respect. I went to your funeral, Al. And when I tell you there were thousands of people there, I'm not exaggerating."

"I read about it." I murmured with another forced smile.

"It was impressive. To simply see how many people cared. And most of them really did. You could tell just from their faces. But it wasn't nearly as impressive as watching you stride into the courtroom to face the man who tried to take your life. You walked with purpose, you were pissed, and just a little scary."

"Jim, you're only proving my point. I stood up for myself then, and I can't now."

"Hold on, let me finish. You had years to get pissed over that, years to come to terms with it."

"And I'm still not over it. That's what's making this worse. The combination of everything. You've got to get over it sometime."

"Why?"

Stunned, I looked at him. "Well… because."

"Overcoming and getting over are two very different things. Yes, you should strive to overcome. To survive, have a life, to be happy, to be productive. You've done all that, and a great deal more. But no, you're not required to get over it. To get over essentially being killed, a complete loss of identity, then to come back, get beaten, abused, and raped and tortured. You ask more of yourself, Al, than you ask of anyone else in the world."

I sighed.

"And it's worse, because you believed yourself to be in love with him. Love complicates things. But I know you, and you'll be okay. You'll overcome this too. But until you do, I'll be here. And so will the others that respect you. The thousands of them."

Some of the tears had subsided, and I felt almost stable enough to stand. "Why… why are you doing this for me?"

"Because no one deserves to be treated that way." He pressed his lips to my left cheek. "Especially someone as beautiful as you." He kissed my right cheek. "And I hate to see you cry."

Despite myself, I laughed. "I hope you know how cheesy that sounded."

"But it got you to smile…"

I smiled again. "So it did. Thanks for that."

He helped me up, and tightened the knot in his tie. "Thankful enough to crawl back into bed?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Yeah. But only because the crying has worn me out. I haven't the strength to argue."

"Good. I'd stay with you, but someone has to pick up the slack if you're going to be lazy and take a sick day…"

I scowled. "That was a low blow, Steele. Really low."

"My specialty." He responded with a smirk, before he kissed me again and was gone.


	13. Chapter V: Casey

**Casey: **

"That's What You Get"

Alex Cabot wasn't lazy. I'd seen her working steadily when it was blatantly obvious that she was running a high grade fever. And I'd heard stories that she'd required five minute recesses during trials because she'd been sick with the stomach flu. I was relatively sure she'd never taken a sick day in her entire career. So, needless to say, when I heard she'd taken the day off, I was definitely surprised, and perhaps, given the state of her face the previous day, just a little worried.

"Ms. Novak…"

I looked up, distracted from my thoughts by the intruder in my office.

"Lieutenant Webster, I can't say I'm pleased to see you here."

"Nobody ever is." He admitted with a woeful grin. "Nevertheless, I'm told by Jack McCoy that your caseload is currently the lightest, and that I should bring this to you."

He held out a thick file, which I took, and laid on my desk. I forced myself to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat before speaking. "What… what is it?"

"It's a case file. I need a warrant."

"Arrest or Search?"

"Search first, but I'm fairly certain the search will yield conducive results, and I'll need the arrest warrant shortly afterwards."

I sighed. "For whom? Which of my friends am I expected to help lock away?"

"Detective Christopher White."

I felt my mouth fall open, but did nothing to stop it. "You know, David, I remember when you used to be a real cop. A damn good one that closed his cases and achieved justice. How did you go from that to wasting your life digging up dirt on other cops?" I exhaled loudly. "If White is dirty, Cabot knows it. And she wouldn't protect him."

"Love distracts us, Casey. It clouds our minds and destroys all rational thought. There isn't a doubt in my mind that she knows he's dirty. That she knows he's been stealing drugs from the evidence locker to feed his own habit. But I don't think she'd turn him in either. She's blinded." He turned to leave, and abruptly changed his mind. "And I'm still a damn good cop. Can't you see it's about more than that? We have to follow the line."

"I don't have to like it."

"You think I do?"

"Why do it otherwise?"

"Because when we pick up our badges, we've sworn to uphold the law, not use it. Protect and serve, not grab whatever you want along the way. Not do whatever you want. We're supposed to stand for something. And those that disregard what we've promised need to be stopped. Somebody has to take a stand and stop them."

Stunned by his passion, and by the absolute rightness and truth of it, I took a moment to collect my thoughts and find my bearings again, to return on topic.

"I assume you have evidence then?"

He nodded. "A lot of it is circumstantial, but it's more than enough for probable cause. And a search of his residence will yield more. I'm sure of it."

"I hope to God you're right. Because that home you're asking to search belongs to an ADA as well, to a friend. And it's likely to destroy her, watching her life torn apart like that. So get something out of it Webster. Don't make me regret this."

"You won't. I can promise that much." He responded with a curt nod and vanished from my office.

"Here we go…" I whispered to myself and lifted the phone to dial a judge and get his warrant.

* * *

I was pleased to find Jim Steele alone in his office. Privacy would make the upcoming uncomfortable conversation just slightly easier.

"Jim, I need a minute of your time."

"Look, I'm swamped, I don't really have a minute to give." But he set the memo he was reading aside, and looked up to meet my eyes, and instantly his own shot to alert. "What's wrong?"

"David Webster came to see me this morning."

"Internal Affairs David Webster?"

I nodded and shifted awkwardly. "Yeah. That's the one. He… he… uh… wanted a warrant to search Cabot's place."

"Did you get it for him?"

I bit my lip. "Yeah. He had the probable cause. After reading the case file, I'm pretty sure that her boyfriend has stolen drugs. It's a needed search Jim."

"Did you let her know?"

"I called her cell, but it was off. I don't have her home number."

"Alright. I'll get in touch with her. I want you there when they execute this warrant."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else."

"Alex and I will meet you there."

I nodded again and wondered briefly why he looked so … _pissed_. I knew Steele had a great amount of respect for his boss, and I knew they were friendly, but this was a level I hadn't expected.

"Yeah. Yes, of course, she should be there."

He looked at me for a moment. "Was there something else you needed?"

"I… no, just … are you alright? You look like… well; all due respect, but you look like you want to punch me in the face right now."

"I don't hit women, Casey."

"I didn't mean to insinuate… you look unsettled, that's all I meant. Like you wanna shoot the messenger."

"Alexandra Cabot is a respected member of this office, and beyond that, a very close personal friend of mine. You've just told me that you convinced a judge to sign off on a piece of paper that allows a team of cops to go into her home, and paw through her things, violate her privacy. So, I've got to admit, it's slightly disconcerting."

"I get that. More than I think you'd realize. But you haven't read the file, because if you had, you'd agree that the loss of privacy is worth it. That this guy needs to be put away, he needs to … he needs to pay for what he's done."

"I know what he's done. I know… I know more than you'd think. I just wish there was a way to go about it that didn't hurt Alex."

And at that, I understood myself to be dismissed. But as I turned away, a thought stuck me, and I wondered if it was possible that there was more between Jim and Alex than mutual respect. I wondered if it was possible that he was in love with her.

* * *

From what I knew of Alex, her apartment didn't surprise me. Urbane, sophisticated and tasteful. Or, at least, I thought it had been once. At the moment, it looked as though a tornado had hit it. Cops were everywhere, and they'd already found one empty pill bottle, the one that had gone missing just days before, casually strewn on the bathroom floor.

White was finished. Completely ruined. And I couldn't help but wonder how much of it would spill onto Alex.

And I couldn't deny I was worried about her. She stood her ground, arms folded over her chest, her mouth set in a long thin line, saying nothing. But somehow, she managed to look frail and broken just the same.

And she jumped when the voice rang out behind us.

"What … what the hell is going on here?"

I spun around, and found myself facing Chris. He was handsome, even looking as furious as he did. Webster looked a little smug as he stepped towards him, whipped handcuffs out of his back pocket.

"Christopher White, you're under arrest for grand larceny, and four counts of possession of illegal narcotics."

"What the … how are you searching my home?!"

"We have a warrant, Detective. And you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?"

"Fuck you Webster."

"You know what Chris? I think you used to be good at your job. And you're a smart guy, as a general rule, you know what you're doing. So I really have to wonder what turned you into such a disgrace to the job. Now, I asked if you understood your rights, you miserable piece of crap."

"Yeah. I understand them" he muttered and sneered violently the entire time he was led to the black and white waiting outside for him.

I turned back to supervise the search, and from the corner of my eye, I watched Alex clutch Steele's chest, watched as she pressed her face into his shirt, and cried.

It seemed like her chest hurt with it, heaved as the pressure broke free. Stifled emotions took over and poured out in a hot violent flood.

It sucked her dry.

Jim turned to me, his face expressionless.

"I'm going to take her somewhere… anywhere but here."

"That's probably a good idea." I agreed.

"No…" she whispered; her throat raw from the tears. "I'll be alright."

He ran a hand through her hair, a kind gesture I don't even think he realized he was making.

"You don't need to see this Al. Come on; we'll get some of your clothes, and get out of here."

"I… yeah. Sleep, Jim. I just want to sleep."

"Okay baby. Sleep will be good." He moved slowly, meticulously throughout the apartment, gathering only a few sparse articles of clothing, and had a few choice words to say to any of the cops who tried to warn him against leaving the apartment with potential evidence.

"Casey, call me later, let me know the status."

I simply shook my head in assent, unable to find words.

I couldn't deny it now – though I was sure he'd deny it if asked- Jim Steele was irrevocably in love with Alexandra Cabot. And it was making me rethink some of the things I'd avoided, and some of the choices I'd made.

* * *

With the search completed, I spent the next couple of hours brooding over alcohol, building my confidence, in order to do something I'd been trying to talk myself into for years.

So I stood outside Elliot Stabler's small Queens Townhouse, counting backwards from ten, because I was having a mild panic attack, when he yanked open the front door, service revolver in hand.

"What the fuck El? You shoot everyone who stands on your front porch?" I asked with a shaky laugh once the initial scare had worn off.

"Only when they stand in the dark for fifteen minutes and don't knock. Sorry Case. What are you doing here?"

I inhaled, and stepped forward. "This, El. I'm doing this."

I melted my lips to his, and could feel his heartbeat pick up, drum lightly under my hands and mouth. He wanted.

Hooking an arm around his neck, I jumped so he could catch me in his arms, carry me.

"God, why did we wait so long?"

He said nothing, simply laughed as he deposited me onto the bed.

And he quivered when I slid down his zipper, freed and tormented him. Then, uncurling, I watched as he peeled off my shirt, took his hands and pressed them to my chest. On a low hum of pleasure, I let my head fall back.

"Let me. Let me have-" her reared up, clamped his mouth on me, and the hum became a sob, tugs and burn.

Then it was desperate, and urgent. Slick body straining to slick body, hands and mouths greedy for more. The sharp nip of teeth, the quick bite of nails, the hot slide of tongues.

I was trembling when he straddled me. Our hands and eyes locked. And I took him in, took him deep, cried out.

Breathless, I lowered my brow to his, fought for air, and fought for sanity. "A minute." I managed. "It's too much. Wait a minute."

"It's not too much." His mouth seared over mine. "It will never be too much."

I rose up, and rode until we were both pushed helplessly over the final peak, hopelessly into pleasure.


	14. Chapter VI: Jim

**Jim: **

"When it Rains"

From the doorway to my bedroom, I watched as in sleep Alex twitched, and her hands balled into fists. She couldn't fight the dream off, and it took her. Her face was bone white and her body had gone rigid as I moved to gather her into my arms. An instant before she screamed.

"Wake up, Al. Wake up now."

An icy tongue of panic licked up my spine. Her eyes were open, blind with shock and pain. I wasn't completely sure she was breathing.

"I said wake up Alexandra!"

Her body arched, and she sucked in air like a drowning woman.

"My face. He's beating my face."

"No. It's a dream. Oh, baby, it's a dream. Come back now."

I trembled as much as she did as I rocked her. "You're alright now. I'm right here."

"He was there, in the dark. And it didn't matter if I yelled or pleaded…"

"It's not dark now, I've got the lights on."

She shook her head, burrowed into me. "I can't stop him."

"You can, and you have. The police have him now, and he won't hurt you again."

"It was so real. I felt…" she wrapped her arms around her chest, cradling herself. "I felt it."

"I know." I whispered. _Hadn't I heard her scream? Hadn't I seen the glassy look in her eyes?_ I kissed her hand, her wrist, her cheek. "I know, lie back down now."

"I'm okay. I just need to sit here a minute." She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes. "What time is it?"

"A little after nine."

"I guess I dropped out for a bit, needed the crash."

"You certainly did." I admitted, and brushed a loose hair away from her eye. "You could use more."

She shook her head, and then laid her hands on my face, eased up to my knees to press her lips to mine. "You make me feel clean. And whole, and strong." She slid her fingers into my hair as I wrapped my arms around her. "You make me remember and you help me forget. What I need is you. Be with me."

"I always will be."

I kissed her temples, her cheeks, her lips.

She slid into me, swaying a little as we knelt on the bed in the half light. The storm had passed, but something inside her still quaked from it. I would calm that. I would make it right again. She turned her head, her lips brushing my throat as she sought the taste, the scent of mate.

And finding it, she sighed.

My lips skimmed along the line of her jaw, found hers, then sank dreamily in. Deep and quiet. And she, my strong and troubled woman, melted against me. I held her there so we drifted together into the peace, mouth to mouth, heart to heart. This time, I knew the flutter of her pulse signaled contentment.

When I eased her back so our eyes met, she smiled.

A low sound of pleasure hummed in her throat as she spread her hands over my chest.

Then she leaned down, pressed her lips to my ear. "Mine" she said. And it shook me, down to the soul. Taking her hands in mine, I turned them palms up and laid my lips in the center of each.

"Mine"

We slid down together, to lie facing one another, to touch, to explore as if it were the first time. Long and lazy caresses that both stirred and soothed. Unhurried passion that lit low fires.

I could see her eyes, open not, dark and drenched. So I slipped inside her, was surrounded, welcomed. Then enfolded.

We moved together, a gentle rise and fall in intimacy so complete it squeezed my heart. I laid my lips on hers again, would have sworn I breathed her soul.

And when she spoke my name, the tenderness shattered me. I caught sight of the night sky in the window beyond the bed. It was all so still I could almost believe there wasn't a world out there. That there was nothing beyond that room, that bed, and Alexandra Cabot.

It was with that thought on my mind, and a sigh on her lips that we rolled breathlessly into pleasure.

***

I wasn't sure how long we laid there, in the silence, with our thoughts racing, but it was a knock at the door that broke the quiet.

She looked at me, not understanding who could possibly be there. I simply shrugged and pulled my jeans back over my hips and moved to answer the door. I found my face falling when I locked eyes with Lieutenant David Webster.

"Good God, haven't you disrupted our night enough?" I scowled.

"Is Cabot here?" he demanded, ignoring me, trying to push his way into my apartment.

"She's sleeping, she's miserable. You invaded her home, her life, leave her alone now."

"I can't do that. Her prints were found on the pill bottle in her apartment. We have to take her in for questioning."

"Not now you don't."

"It's not your place to stop me, Steele."

"Alex is a respected member of the DA's office. I'll have her there in the morning."

"And Detective White was a respected member of the NYPD. She's going to come with me now, and be thankful I'm not arresting her."

I took a step closer to him, anger blazing on my face, when I heard movement behind me. I turned slowly, and looked at Alex, wrapped in my ratty bathrobe, looking furious.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing." I began. "I'm handling it. Go back to bed."

"I'm not a child, Jim." She spat as she rolled her eyes and turned to Webster. "What can we do for you Lieutenant?"

"Look, Alex… Ms. Cabot." He amended when I glared at him. "I need to ask you to get dressed and come down to the precinct with me."

I watched the emotions roll over her face, fury, shock, terror, and finally acceptance. "My prints were on that bottle."

He nodded. "They were. We need to do this now."

"I… yes, of course. Just… a moment." She ducked back into my bedroom, and began to pull her clothes back on.

"Stay here." I growled at David and followed her.

"Al… what are you… how has this happened?"

"It's not what you'd think."

"How do you know what I was thinking?" I accused.

"I… you're right. I don't know." she started to walk out, and then turned around, changing her mind. "Do me a favor, alright?"

I stared at her. "Sure, anything."

"Call a lawyer."

I swallowed hard, but before I had a chance to say anything else, she was back with Webster, telling him she was ready to go.

"I need to read you your rights."

Alex nodded, her exterior cool flawless as ever, but I could see the edge of panic underneath the surface, threatening to bubble over. With the Revised Miranda finished, she followed him from my home, and left me alone in the darkness, with nothing but a plea for a lawyer.

A cry for help.


	15. Book 3

**"Love may make you blind kid-  
But I wouldn't mind at all"**

**-From "Spring Awakening" **


	16. Chapter I: Alex

**Alex:**

"Let the flames begin"

When you play chess, and things aren't going well, you get to a moment when you just know.

You're fucked.

There's no more moves, it's a dead end zone. And you can just kiss your sorry ass goodbye. As I sat in the back seat of Webster's Crown Vic, I had one of those "Totally Fucked" epiphanies. But the thing that made me really jump was that I knew… the weirdest shit was still to come.

I'd spent more than my share of time in police stations. As an attorney, as a victim, and then as an attorney again. But never, in my wildest dreams, did I imagine I would've been sitting in an interrogation room as a criminal.

And I belonged there.

Because, whether I liked it or not, I had dumped those pills down the toilet. I was an accessory after the fact. Circumstances aside, I'd broken the law, and I of all people knew better. I wasn't going to weasel my way out of this one, I wasn't going to try. _Sometimes,_ I thought to myself _you're just better off accepting your fate. _

This seemed to be one of those times. But once they'd dumped me in the grey cement room, they'd left me there, and hadn't returned.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid. I was terrified. Of the interrogation, of the consequences, of everything a trial entailed. Because I knew every intimate detail. But the prosecutor in me wouldn't let it slide. The ADA in me wanted to convict myself, and probably had since the moment I'd watched those pills circle the toilet into oblivion.

So I breathed a small sigh of relief when I saw Olivia enter the interrogation room. Because telling her what I'd done would feel more like telling a friend, and less like allocating to the facts of a crime.

I couldn't see the harm in lying to myself a little longer.

"You're free to go." She murmured softly, and leaned across the table to brush a strand of hair out of my eye.

"What the hell do you mean, 'I'm free to go'? I flushed his damn drugs down the toilet!"

"We know." Liv said simply.

Taken aback, I paused for a moment. _They knew I'd touched the pills, but how, exactly had they known what I'd done with them?_

Olivia seemed to read my thoughts, and answered my unspoken question. "Chris told us."

I chewed nervously on my fingernail for a moment. "Okay, I still don't understand." I admitted slowly. "If he sold me out, why, exactly, am I being let go?"

She raised an eyebrow as if to say "You know why." And my response was to adamantly fold my arms over my chest and wait for an answer.

"Because, he told us the truth. That he beat and raped you, that you dumped the pills just afterwards, likely under duress. He confessed to his crimes. To all of them."

"It's not true." I stammered.

"You're lying." Olivia responded softly. "You've an outcry witness. And beyond that, anyone with eyes can see the bruises, and I don't just mean that literally."

"I need to see him."

"Alex, we both know, that's not going to happen."

"You can't let him do this Liv."

"Did the man hit you Alex? Did he strike your face with a closed fist? And then force you to have sex with him?"

"I… yes, but…"

"No buts."

"He was going to come forward then. Just after, and turn himself in. But I dumped the pills, I told him not to. He was so sorry for what he'd done, so sincere, I knew it would never happen again. And I left, Liv. I'm not going back to him, but I can't let him take the blame for what I've done. Can't you understand that?"

She shook her head. "What I can understand is you just told me nearly exactly what Detective White did, almost word for word. I can understand that no matter what you've convinced yourself to believe, in the moment after he raped you, you were afraid, and would've done anything to avoid it happening again. So, no, I don't understand you wanting to protect him. I can't."

"Liv, I…"

"Go home, Alex. Jim is waiting outside for you. Along with half of your office."

"Christ." I turned slowly towards my friend. "Thanks Liv. Even if it doesn't seem like I'm being all that grateful right now, in ten years, I'm sure I'll come to my senses."

"Get some sleep, maybe you'll come to them in the morning."

I nodded, and without another word stood, and left the room.

* * *

The heat was already pushing triple digits the next morning by the time I fought my way through traffic into my office. I was a woman on a mission once again, and I knew it was my last one, so I figured I should make it count.

I knocked on the door to Jack McCoy's office, and waited patiently to be admitted. It was the first time I'd ever stood outside the door to that particular office and truly felt nervous.

"Alex. I didn't expect to see you in today." He spoke pleasantly, like an expert politician.

"I wanted… I wanted to give you this."

With a small flourish that I couldn't seem to help, I handed him the single sheet of paper I'd brought with me. I waited while his eyes flickered over it, reading quickly as only a lawyer can.

"You're resigning?" he asked slowly with a hint of ice in his voice.

"Jack, if you were hoping to have the honour of firing me, you're out of luck."

"Alex, I have no intention of firing you. What happened, well it sucked. But I think, in a similar situation, many of us would've handled it the same way, perhaps much worse. So neither I, nor this office can fault you for what happened. And if you're set on leaving, well I won't stand in your way, but we'll be sorry to see you go."

I felt my jaw drop open a little bit. "Well, so much for my dramatic exit."

"I had warning." McCoy admitted, and at my puzzled look, he continued. "Steele was here, about an hour ago. He told me you might try something like this."

"Sonofabitch." I hissed through my teeth. "The man knows everything."

"I pay him to." Jack said easily. "But I pay you more to know more."

I cracked a small smile. "Then I guess I should get to that, huh?"

"If you're up for it. You look tired."

"I'm an ADA. I'm always tired."

"Good point. In that case, get downstairs, Cabot, there's work waiting for you."

And feeling more normal than I had in days, I turned on the spot, leaving his office, headed for my own.


	17. Chapter II: Olivia

"Here We Go Again"

**Olivia:**

Sometime that afternoon, the heat wave finally broke. The humidity vanished as the rain fell in torrents, a silver curtain of water so thick you couldn't see five feet in front of your face. It washed away everything. I took it as a sign, the mess was over, the pressure, and the heat, were both gone.

I won't pretend I wasn't relieved. And it was a sense of overwhelming justice that encompassed the SVU squad room.

"Who's up for a drink?" I asked the entire squad "Elliot's buying." I volunteered my partner mercilessly.

"How'd you pry the wallet from the vice he's got around it?" Munch asked sardonically as he yanked on his jacket.

"I didn't actually offer…" Stabler muttered, a scowl crossing his face. It didn't shock me, I shook his attitude off with a slight smirk. And it was then that I noticed a starry-eyed look fill his eyes. A look I was sure had never crossed his face before.

Trying to see who put the silly look on my steadfast partners face, I spun around so fast, I nearly gave myself whiplash.

"Casey." I whispered breathlessly.

"You look surprised Liv." She retorted with a laugh.

"Not surprised… just… okay yeah," I responded. "Surprised. What are you doing here?"

"I don't know about you guys, but putting all this behind me has really put me in the mood for some serious alcohol. I came by to see if you wanted a drink. Or several."

"We were just having the very same discussion. Elliot's buying." I said, turning to look at my partner, narrowing my eyes.

He glared at me, then opened his mouth to speak. "Yeah, alright. One round. And everybody's drinkin' cheap beer."

Casey smiled, and shocked us all, linking her fingers through Elliot's.

"You're an asshole, Detective." She whispered, but I watched as the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin as he dipped her low and covered her lips with his own. They melded together like two pieces of a puzzle. I don't think I've ever seen a more perfect fit.

It was only Munch who had the guts to interrupt them. "Are we going to stand around here and watch you two make-out? Can we at least get to the bar and watch you there?"

For the first time all afternoon, Elliot smiled. "Let's go then. Apparently I have some drinks to buy."

* * *

The torrential downpour kept most sane people at home, off the streets, and out of the bars. But of course, we were among the crazies that were out, among the few that were willing to drink.

Our group sauntered inside, wet from the rain, laughing at our own stupidity for trying to make the three block hike instead of driving over. The bar gave off a warm feeling, a comfort we were all seeking.

And apparently, so was Alex Cabot.

She turned our way, looking up from her drink, and flashed a smile, but her eyes remained somber. Her hair was wet and stringy, matted down, and numerous fresh cuts and bruises marred her face.

"Damn it." I whispered under my breath as Elliot turned to face me with a raised eyebrow. "I'll handle it." I muttered through pursed lips, beginning my stride, fuming anger overwhelming any sympathy I held for her.

"What the hell happened?!"

"I don't want to talk about it." She replied firmly and signaled the bartender for another drink.

"Where's Detective White?" I demanded to know.

She shrugged. "At home, I suppose. I'm not talking about this Olivia."

I turned around, scanning the nearly empty bar, looking for Casey.

"How much was Chris White's bail?"

"Five hundred thousand." She said quickly, taking a quick swig of her beer.

"Did he post it?"

"When I left, he hadn't. And I can't imagine where he'd get that kind of money. It was cash only. No bond."

"Well maybe he's got himself a friend. Or something. Because he's out."

Cabot shuddered, and knocked back her glass of Jameson like a pro.

"Chris didn't do this." She murmured, and obviously caught the disbelief in my eyes because she quickly added, "I wouldn't lie to you Liv."

"Well Alex, somebody beat the crap out of you. And if it wasn't him, then who? Steele?"

She looked instantly disgusted at the very thought. "No. Jim actually cares about me. And he's probably the only one the does. I'm fine Liv, you need to let it go."

"See I'm not going to do that. Because I care about you too. This, this is not okay. At all. And you know it."

"I got into a fight. Arguments aren't a crime Liv."

"Assault is. And so is witness tampering."

"I didn't tamper with any witnesses. I would never…how could you even insinuate…" she looked stunned, and for the first time all night, a little hurt.

"I meant you were the witness. If someone started a 'fight' with you to keep you quiet, _that_ my friend, is a crime."

"You think I don't know that? You think that after all the year's I've spent in the D.A.'s office, I don't know what constitutes a crime?"

"Alex, I didn't mean… You can't protect him."

"And you can't protect me. I don't want to get killed."

"Alex, be reasonable, what you're doing, it's just plain stupid."

"You don't know anything. You couldn't protect me before, and you sure as hell can't do it now. So screw you. Just, fuck you Liv." She stood quickly spinning around to leave. Her legs gave out from under her, and she began to slide to the floor. If I hadn't already been turning myself to follow her, my reflexes would've been too slow. But as it was, I caught her, breaking the fall.

"I need some help over here." I yelled, feeling frantically for a pulse.

"Elliot, she's not breathing!"

* * *

_***Evil laugh***_

_***Don't forget to review. (The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update)***_


	18. Chapter III: David

**Author's Note:** So due to the exceptional and prompt review response, I'm posting the update, as promised. Enjoy. Oh, and can I also take this chance to admit that I'm doing a giant happy dance because I found out that Alex Cabot will be back on SVU next season for 10 whole epi's! That's half the season! Celebrate with me by reviewing!

* * *

"Pressure"

**David: **

The rain had let up, and both the Mets and the Yankees were giving New York baseball a bad name. I was just beginning to think that I should head to bed, that maybe if I wasn't watching, at least one team could pull a victory out of thin air. I laughed at myself for having such a stupid thought and took a long pull off my beer. My phone rang loudly, and I silently cursed whoever it was and myself for leaving it on. I'd closed my case; I wanted the night off to watch my team tank in peace and quiet.

But nevertheless, I answered it. And despite the hour, despite my exhausted state, I found myself racing to St. Matthew's hospital.

I prayed that when I got there, I would find Alexandra Cabot still alive.

***

I didn't have much information when I showed up at the hospital, and the dirty looks that got shot at me when I walked into the waiting room told me that I wasn't about to get any anytime soon. The building was crawling with cops and more lawyers than I ever wanted to be trapped in a room with.

"Steele." I said coldly as my eyes locked with those of Cabot's current lover.

"Lieutenant Webster. What an unpleasant surprise." He sneered. "What do you want?"

"The same thing you want. To find out who hurt Alex."

Jim blew out a breath, ran his fingers through his hair. "Knowing won't help you Webster. This… it's not even connected to Chris White. Do you honestly think I'd let that asswipe anywhere near her?"

"You can't control everything she does Steele. She's an adult and-"

He cut me off. "Don't waste your interrogation techniques on me David. You wanna know if I know what happened to her, just ask."

"Alright Jim. Obviously you know, so tell me, who attacked your woman?"

"For starters, Alex isn't anyone's woman. And secondly, this… this whole thing, the reason we're all here waiting impatiently to find out if she's going to survive, it's a product of her own stupidity. Her need to prove to herself that she still has the balls to play with the boys."

"What the hell are you talking about Steele?"

"Zapata."

"Rafael Zapata?" I was confused, and it was very apparent. "The bastard who ordered her killed all those years ago? The one who sent her running into the witness protection program? Isn't he in prison?"

"Bet your ass. The sonofabitch isn't leaving the Manhattan Correctional Centre anytime soon."

'Then tell me, since you seem to know everything, how did he beat the crap out of her from a federal prison?"

He swallowed hard and looked me square in the eye. "She went to see him."

"Christ Jesus. Why?"

"Like I said before, it was about proving to herself that she could. That going though what she had lately hadn't changed her. That she could still be the same tough bitch she always was. And she wanted to let him know he couldn't intimidate her.

I chewed a hangnail off the end of my thumb before opening my mouth to speak again. "So he goes at her in the interview, the guards break it up, but he manages to get in a few good kicks, a couple punches, she sustains some bruises… why don't the feds fix her up in the jail infirmary?"

Steele shrugged. "Knowing Alex, she told them to fuck off, that she was fine."

"Wait. You didn't go with her?"

He shook his head. "No. I didn't even know she was thinking about doing it, let alone going until she was walking out of the place. She called me and told me what she'd done, and told me she wanted to be alone tonight, that she would spend the night in her old apartment. I figured I'd go over there around ten, and check on her, but I got called here before I could." He sighed and buried his face in his hands. "I wish she'd just told me."

Before I could respond, before I could say another word, a stunning doctor in sea foam green scrubs was making her way towards us. Steele began a path to meet her, but I cut him off mid stride and flashed my badge.

"How is she?"

"Stable. She's in the ICU, a fractured skull, a couple of cracked ribs, and her kidney is bruised."

Beside me, I heard Jim Steele's sigh of relief. I turned my attention back to the doctor. "Why'd she collapse?"

"When she turned to stand, her rib poked her in the lung, and punctured it. We've put a patch on it, for now we need to see if it holds."

"I need to talk to her."

The doctor shook her head. "Absolutely not. She's exhausted, and needs to rest."

I repeated myself, a hint of ice playing in my voice.

"Five minutes. I'll time you Detective."

"Lieutenant." I corrected "I'll be quick." I assured her.

"Alright." She muttered. "Follow me."

Our strides were long and purposeful, the trip to the third floor was quick. And when Alex caught sight of me in her doorway, the look she shot me was just as sharp and just as purposeful.

"David." She greeted coldly. "What do you want."

"Well, even gravely ill you don't seem to have the time to be pleasant."

"Why start now?" she sneered at me. "What do you want?"

"How about the truth, Alex. Do I need to re-arrest Chris White?"

"No." she stated firmly. "I haven't even seen him. I went to see Zapata. He got pissed when he realised I wasn't afraid of him anymore. When he saw he couldn't frighten me. And he got in a few swings before the guards could pull him off."

"Why didn't you let the fed's patch you up?"

"I was fine. I wanted some time alone. Not in a hospital."

"You probably would've stayed fine if you hadn't dumped that truck full whiskey into your system. It threw you off." The doctor interjected from her post in the corner of the room. "Miss Cabot needs to rest. You need to go Lieutenant."

"We're done here anyway." Alex spat from her bed, turned away from me, and winced as she did.

***

When I got back to the waiting room, I turned on Steele.

"Her story matches yours" I began "I'll call NCC and verify. But I swear to god Jim, if I find out you've lied to me, that White had anything to do with this and that you're covering for him, I'll come after you. I'll have your job Steele."

"You think I could protect him after what he did to her?"

"I think you'd do anything she asked of you."

"You're right." He affirmed. "So it's a good thing she didn't ask." And with that, he spun on his heels and sauntered away.

I turned to follow him, to leave and head home to get the sleep I'd wanted. In the process, I gave the room a cursory glance. Casey Novak rested her head on Elliot's shoulders. Both had their eyes shut, but their fingers were laced together, tracing along his leg in slow lover-like patterns. Fin and Cragen were playing cards, and Munch was flipping through a copy of a month old magazine. Olivia had followed Steele outside. It was abundantly clear to me that I wasn't wanted there.

So I did what I thought best, and left. I'd gotten all the information I could, and it seemed like what I did know was not relevant or important.

"Get better soon Alex." I whispered softly and left without saying a word to anyone else.


	19. Epilogue: Alex

**Epilogue: Alex**

"I caught myself"

When I was a kid, my mother used to tell me that we were all allowed to make mistakes. That, without them, life is boring, menial, and really not worth living, much less enjoying. We need to make them, and we need to learn from them in order to make ourselves better people.

Okay.

Fine.

Great.

Spectacular.

I don't think she ever imagined the mistakes I would make. The sheer number, or the colossal quality of them.

Witness Protection. Essentially lying to most of my friends, to all of my family. Just picking up and leaving everything behind me, when I'd spend my entire adult career convincing people to stand up for themselves. Way to set an example Alex.

When I finally came out of protection, I couldn't face myself, let alone my old squad. Mistake number 2.

Jim. I had him. And I let him go. Because I was afraid. I guess this is one of the mistakes I've learned from. I'm not afraid anymore. But it's still among the mistakes. Number 3.

Robert. Okay, I guess our courtship was a result of mistake number 3. He was the anti-Jim. Cool, calm, collected. It never would have worked, we were too similar. And then I cheated on him. The very night before he asked me to marry him. I suppose the mistake here was my saying yes to the engagement. I couldn't be honest with myself though, so how could I be honest with him?

Jim. Again. The other man, the one I run to. Even for a release. Yeah, he was the one I cheated on my would-be-fiancé-soon to be-ex-boyfriend with. Does this come as a surprise? It shouldn't.

Chris. I guess this one counts as the big one and the blame falls totally on me. I wanted so badly to become myself again, to get the hell over it. I diluted myself with lies, and very nearly lost everything I'd worked so hard to re-build.

Visiting Zapata. I knew better. But at least here, there were no lies. And I wonder if that's a step in the right direction.

So I walked around the hospital, recanting all the mistakes I'd made with my life, especially those that had occurred in the last four years. The doctors had advised that a little movement would be good for me, but I wasn't really sure where I was headed. Air maybe. I hated hospitals. They smelled of antiseptic, despair and of death. It wasn't a pleasant environment. And wasn't one I wished to spend any more time in than necessary. I found myself passing through the maternity ward, babies in their tiny cribs, covered head to toe in pink or blue identifying the gender of the child. The tiny and underdeveloped were hooked to machines. Their fate was up in the air, unknown to anyone. And they had no control over it. Like corpses, they lay there, helpless unless someone stepped in and saved them.

Savasana.

Watching them made me think though. Because I wasn't tiny, underdeveloped or helpless. I could make my own future, I could control my own destiny, and I could learn from my mistakes. I wouldn't be a corpse. There would be no more of this for me.

***

And he was waiting when I got back to my room. Eyes glazed over with exhaustion, like he hadn't slept well since I'd been admitted. Which, I knew he hadn't.

"Jim… you need to go home. Get some rest. I'm going to be fine."

"There's a truckload of people in the waiting room, they want to see you. I came in to see if you were up to it."

"I'm good. Really. I just needed to get up and move around. You can only spend so much time lying around."

He stood, connecting our eyes together, searching mine to see if I was telling the truth. But I was done with the lies, he needn't have worried.

"You'll be alright." He whispered more to re-assure himself than anything else.

"Damn straight I will." I replied, and leaned forward, kissing him hard on the mouth. I didn't have to fight this alone. He would stand there with me, no matter what. "Now, go let everyone else in here, so I can let them see the same thing."

As he slid from the room, I poured myself back into bed, wincing slightly at the minor sting the bruises still gave off. I closed my eyes, exhaled, and before I knew it people were in my room, seemingly materializing from nowhere.

Elliot and Casey were holding hands, which made me smile. I wondered when that had started, and hoped it worked out for the best.

"How're your feeling Alex?" Olivia asked from somewhere within the depths of the crowd.

"I'll live." I joked, and turned my attention back to Elliot. "So…" I gestured towards Casey "When… when did this start?"

He shrugged. "I guess it's been building for a while. "I love her." He said loudly. "And I'm going to marry her."

The redhead blushed, but the grin that crossed her face said it all. And I was happy for them.

Only menial chatter followed, and eventually, the medicine they'd given me kicked in, and I could hardly keep my eyes open. Jim ushered them out quickly, and then turned to me, tucking in the light blanket.

"My knight in shining Armani." I quipped through a yawn.

"I don't make enough money to wear Armani." He said as he brushed his lips across my forehead. "But you can be my damsel in distress any day."

I shook my head. "honestly, what is it with the cheesy pickup lines? Nobody ever has a good one."

He laughed. "I dunno, I thought that one was halfway decent."

"Nope." I yawned again. "Awful. One of your worst, actually."

"Okay then Al, what counts as a good one?"

I sat up, ran my hand gently down his face. "I love you. And okay, I can't announce it like Elliot did, I'm not ready for that. But it's a start, and it's a hell of a lot better than 'damsel in distress'"

He kissed me again, for what might have been minutes, it might have been hours, I wasn't entirely sure. But when we finally broke apart, he was smiling. "It's way better. And you should know, I love you too. I reserve my cheesiest pickup lines for the women I love."

I laid back down. "I had better be the only one Steele."

"Now and forever."

I closed my eyes, breathing normally, resting easily.

Finally, it was over.


End file.
